


Snow Is Falling (Like Forgiveness From The Sky)

by torakowalski



Category: Captain America, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torakowalski/pseuds/torakowalski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Steve wakes up cold.  Steve almost always wakes up cold, though, so it takes him a couple minutes to realise that this time it’s not just him, <i>this</i> time, the whole room is freezing.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Is Falling (Like Forgiveness From The Sky)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goshemily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goshemily/gifts).



> For Emily, who asked for Steve and Bucky's feelings on winter.

Steve wakes up cold. Steve almost always wakes up cold, though, so it takes him a couple minutes to realise that this time it’s not just him, _this_ time, the whole room is freezing.

He rolls out of bed and pulls on the zip-up Yankees sweatshirt that Natasha made him buy the last time they went to a game. It made Tony laugh when he saw it, but it really is incredibly comfortable.

“JARVIS?” Steve asks, letting himself out of his room and heading for the elevator. 

“Sir,” JARVIS says smartly. “I do apologise for the sudden drop in temperature. It appears that the reactor powering the Tower has malfunctioned. Mr Stark is investigating.”

The elevator arrives but Steve hesitates over which floor to select. He was planning to check on Bucky, but now he’s wondering if Tony needs his help more. 

“Miss Potts and Dr Banner are assisting Mr Stark,” JARVIS tells him kindly, once again proving why Clint calls him a creepy mindreader. 

Not that Steve finds it creepy; he thinks it’s incredibly comforting to have someone who understands his thought processes more often than not and won’t tease him for them.

“Thanks,” Steve says, smiling up at the ceiling, and jumps into the elevator before anyone else wakes up and commandeers it.

Bucky’s floor is one above Steve’s and it’s even colder up here. Steve decides that he’ll just peek his head around the door and leave, if Bucky is still asleep. No one should wake up to this kind of cold, not if they don’t have to.

Bucky's bed is empty.

Steve knows it's no big deal, knows that he shouldn't panic, but it's the middle of the night and Bucky should _be here_ , dammit. Unable to help himself, Steve heads back out into Bucky's suite, throwing open every door, even checking in the closet.

There's no one here.

Steve's heart is beating too fast, chest tightening as though his old asthma is making a return. Bucky's only been out of SHIELD lock-down for a month; if he woke up and couldn't remember where (or who) he was, then he could have gone anywhere. Then an icy blast of wet-tinged wind blows across Steve's back and he spins around, noticing a half-opened window that he carelessly overlooked before.

"Bucky?" Steve calls, sticking his head outside. It's snowing, big wet clumps that slap weakly against his cheek.

No one answers, but Steve hears a soft shuffle from above his head, and twists around to look up, coming face to foot with the sole of a black boot.

"Bucky," Steve sighs and pulls himself out of the window onto the tiny balcony, balancing on the railing for a second before swinging up onto the flat part of the roof that Bucky's perched on.

Bucky is sitting very still, eyes wide and staring sightlessly out over the glittering landscape of New York. The swirling snow makes Steve feel dizzy, but he blinks that away, leaning into Bucky's side.

"Hey?" he asks. 

Bucky's gaze is lost and empty for a long moment, nothing of Bucky there, and it takes Steve back to the awful, wonderful day when they first found the Winter Soldier. Bucky mumbles back in something that must be Russian, then shakes his head, clearing his throat. 

"Rogers, hey, what the fuck are you doing?" he asks, sounding muddled like he's just woken up.

“Looking for you,” Steve says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal to be sitting on a roof in the snow in December. This isn’t the worst place Bucky has wondered off to after a nightmare; in fact, Steve wouldn’t even put it in the top ten.

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky says, after another moment. He shivers violently and presses his hands into his armpits. “Sorry. You want to go back inside?”

“I don’t mind,” Steve says, even though he really would rather be out of the cold. The snow makes the cold more bearable, though. For him, anyway. He glances across at Bucky. “Do you?”

Bucky hesitates for a second then, “Yeah,” he says and slides off the roof.

There’s one, breathless moment where Steve forgets the balcony that’s directly below them and all he sees is Bucky, surrounded by snow and falling abruptly away from him all over again.

He thinks he’s managed to cut off the sound that floods his throat, but when he follows Bucky down, he has to put a hand against the doorframe because he’s shaking so hard.

“Okay?” Bucky asks, raising his eyebrows at him.

“Peachy,” Steve lies and climbs back in through the window ahead of Bucky.

“Fuck, why is it so damn cold?” Bucky demands, shaking snow out of his hair and looking around the room in betrayal. “I thought the one good thing about fancy modern heating is that you don’t gotta be cold in winter if you don’t want.”

Steve shrugs. “I’m not sure. JARVIS says Tony and Bruce are fixing it.” He closes the window then drags a chair up to it, so they can still look out. He curls his legs under him and sits down on his feet. He hates having cold toes. He hated it in the war and he still hates it now.

“That why you came to check on me?” Bucky drawls. “Aren’t you cute.”

Steve refuses to let on that he’s blushing, so he shoves Bucky in the shoulder instead. 

Bucky laughs, parking himself on the arm of Steve’s chair, metal elbow braced against the back to hold himself up. “So what now? You moving into my room?”

Steve doesn’t really know. He just knows that he doesn’t want to be cold and on his own tonight. “I could go,” he offers. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Don’t be stupid,” he says and rearranges himself for maximum comfort, ending up with his socked feet shoved under Steve’s thigh. Steve doesn’t mind; somewhere in the back of his mind, he likes having even a tiny part of Bucky trapped underneath him, because it means Steve knows where he is.

It really is very cold in here. The super soldier serum means that Steve is unlikely to ever die of hypothermia, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling it. He’s not sure the others realise that, when they tease him about have been a Captain America-shaped ice pop for so long.

“Remember Belgium?” Bucky asks suddenly.

Steve shivers. He doesn’t know how he could ever forget it. “All that snow,” he agrees.

“Fucking freezing.” Bucky nods. “Don’t think I’ve ever been that miserable.”

Steve doesn’t mean to look up at him then, but he does, surprised. Bucky raises his eyebrows back at him.

“The Winter Soldier wasn’t miserable,” Bucky says slowly, not like he’s reluctant to talk about it, more like he’s testing out his words to see if they’re the ones he wants to use. “The Winter Soldier didn’t really have any feelings beyond wondering who he could kill next.” He laughs harshly. “Hey, look at me, talking about myself in the third person.”

“No.” Steve leans his shoulder against Bucky’s arm. It’s Bucky’s left arm and the metal is cold, but he doesn’t move away. “You can talk about it any way you want.”

“As long as I talk about it, right?” Bucky asks shrewdly.

Steve shrugs, even though the answer is obviously yes. 

Bucky leans further into Steve’s side and closes his eyes. He’s shivering. Cautiously, Steve lifts his arm and wraps it around Bucky’s waist, squeezing carefully.

“You always hold me like I’m gonna break,” Bucky complains. “You know, I’m pretty much indestructible.” 

“Not to me,” Steve says, nonsensically. He wants to ask how Bucky would like to be held, but even thinking it makes his heart pound too hard.

Bucky shifts again, sliding off the arm of the chair and wedging himself into the armchair, thigh against Steve’s and the sharp line of his hip digging into Steve’s side. It reminds Steve of when they were kids and the way they’d huddle together in front of the log fire, when Steve’s mom could afford to keep lit.

“Nearly Christmas,” Bucky muses. “You looking forward to it?”

Steve has been asked that a lot lately – Tony’s planning a big party, even though he won’t admit that it’s for the team – and his answer has always been enthusiastically positive. Captain America is expected to love Christmas, so Steve plays along.

“Yes,” he lies. “Of course I am.”

Bucky elbows him gently in the gut. “You’ve always hated Christmas, Rogers. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

“I never did,” Steve protests. 

Bucky shakes his head. “I have never seen a kid smile so wide on December 27th as you used to.”

There’s not much Steve can say to that, not when Bucky’s right. Steve never hated Christmas, but he hated the pinched look on his mom’s face when she desperately tried to save enough to buy him something good.

“Maybe this year will be better?” he hedges. “I am looking forward to everyone spending time together, and to seeing Doctor Foster and Doctor Ross again.”

“Sure.” Bucky reaches up and pats Steve on the cheek. “And you’ll have me. I’ll bring the party.”

“No party,” Steve warns automatically. “It’ll be bad enough with whatever Tony’s planning.”

“Awesome enough, you mean,” Bucky corrects then suddenly shivers violently. “Goddamn it. You’re so fucking big now; the least you could do is be warmer. I kept you warm enough times, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Steve agrees and doesn’t mention how, even curled up against Bucky’s narrow chest, wrapped in Bucky’s skinny arms, he was never warm enough. Bucky had done his best, but they’d both been so young and it had been so cold.

Steve moves them around until he’s got both arms around Bucky, hands rubbing up and down Bucky’s back and the tops of his arms.

Bucky laughs into Steve’s neck when Steve tries to warm up his metal arm, but Steve doesn’t stop. He knows how cold the metal gets and he knows that Bucky can feel it, so it stands to reason that Bucky’ll be warmer if his arm is.

Besides, Bucky’s arm is part of him and Steve is determined to make sure he knows that Steve understands that.

“Mmm, better,” Bucky murmurs, but he doesn’t lift his head from where it’s fallen to Steve’s shoulder. “Steve Rogers, I fucking missed you.”

It’s not the first time Bucky’s told him that, Bucky’s never had a problem talking about his feelings, but for some reason, it makes Steve’s stomach contract and squeeze until he has to suck in a painful breath.

He stares over Bucky’s shoulder, out at the still-falling snow and thinks about all the holidays they didn’t get to spend together.

“I _am_ looking forward to Christmas this year, because you’ll be there,” Steve admits quickly, not scared of that, for once. “I wasn’t sure I remembered how to look forward to anything when I first woke up.”

“That’s bullshit,” Bucky says fiercely, but he hugs Steve back as hard as Steve is holding onto him. “You don’t need me around to be happy.”

“I _want_ you around to be happy,” Steve says, just as firmly, and Bucky goes still.

“Fuck,” he says. He tips his head back, breath blowing hot across Steve’s face, warming him more than anything else has in a long time. “I wish you meant that how it sounds.”

Steve swallows. He’s always been terrible at courting, but he’s not completely clueless. He never misunderstood the way Bucky used to look at him, has started looking at him again now he’s getting more of himself back from the Winter Soldier. 

“What if I do?” Steve asks quietly, making himself meet Bucky’s eyes. 

Bucky’s mouth falls open slightly. Steve can’t remember a time when he didn’t want to kiss him. Everything feels so much more possible in this new century, where they’ve both been given a second chance.

“If you’re fucking with me, I will punch you in the kidneys,” Bucky warns him, voice so soft Steve barely hears him.

“I’d better not be fucking with you, then,” Steve says, mostly just so Bucky will smile when he hears Steve curse. 

“I – ” Bucky swallows, nods firmly to himself, slides his hand up Steve’s jawline, curling his fingers in Steve’s hair. “I’m just going to do this, then.”

Steve starts to nod, but doesn’t get far. As soon as his mouth dips closer to Bucky’s, Bucky kisses him. Steve’s watched Bucky kiss girls before, big sweeping Hollywood things, but this isn’t like that. Bucky’s careful, almost hesitant, barely applying any pressure at all, just holding Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Steve plants his hand firmly against the back of Bucky’s neck and pulls him forward, kissing him the way he’s always imagined kissing Bucky. 

Bucky groans right into his mouth and catches a handful of Steve’s hair, tugging him closer and licking into his mouth, twisting gracefully around so that he’s straddling Steve’s thighs.

Steve catches hold of Bucky’s hips and holds him steady, breaking the kiss regretfully. He doesn’t want to stop kissing, but this is Bucky, so he needs to make sure everything’s okay, first.

“Are we doing this?” he asks, watching Bucky bite his lower lip and unconsciously licking his own in response.

Bucky pulls on Steve’s hair, tangling his fingers up in it.

“We definitely do seem to be kissing,” Bucky agrees, with a happy quirk to his mouth. “Soon, I’m hoping for some making out. But I’m pretty sure even you knew that.”

“I meant.” Steve shakes his head. That _was_ what he wanted to know, he guesses. “I was just checking we were on the same page.”

“Is that page me finally getting my hands all over your gorgeous damn body?” Bucky asks. His hands stay above Steve’s collar though, despite his words – his ridiculous words that make Steve blush and drop his head down to rest on Bucky’s neck.

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs into Bucky’s ear, terrified but doing what he always does when he’s scared: going for it anyway. “That’s the page we’re on.”

Bucky goes still for a second and then he’s kissing Steve fiercely, thrusting his tongue in and out of Steve’s mouth like, well like he’s doing something else entirely. It makes Steve’s skin feel hot and too small and so sensitive.

“Steve,” Bucky says, right against his lips. He pulls back with kisses that grow lighter and lighter until they’re just breathing together.

“Hey,” Steve says, when Bucky doesn’t say anything else. 

Steve opens his eyes and finds himself looking up into Bucky’s face. It’s stupid, of course it’s Bucky’s face, but suddenly it’s _Bucky’s_ face, this face that he’s known all his life, as handsome as it’s ever been but also as familiar, and Steve can’t help the bubble of laughter that rises up in his throat.

“What, what?” Bucky protests, pulling Steve’s hair. “Don’t laugh at me, you asshole.” He doesn’t look offended; he looks patient, like he’s okay with waiting for Steve to get over his giggles.

“I can’t believe I’m kissing you,” Steve says, doing just that, because it’s been nearly a minute since he last did it and that’s too long.

“Took you fucking long enough,” Bucky grouses. He ducks his head and presses their mouths together again, angling his head so their lips fit just right.

Steve slides his hands up Bucky’s body, curling them around Bucky’s ribs, one sliding over to the centre of Bucky’s chest, flat against his breastbone. He’s in no hurry to go further than this, but he’s sure Bucky will be. Bucky used to come home with stories of the girls he stepped out with and all the times he'd go all the way with them.

But Bucky surprises him; he doesn’t rush them toward anything, just stays still and kisses Steve and lets Steve kiss him, and Steve lets himself wonder what life would have been like, if they’d done this from the start.

Warmer, he supposes, but it might have made losing Bucky even more unbearable. No, he doesn’t think it’s possible for that to have been worse.

Bucky smiles down at him, eyes soft and disbelieving. “You sure you didn’t sabotage the heat just to get me into bed?” he asks.

“Darn.” Steve kisses Bucky again, because he can. “You caught me out.”

Bucky laughs and is just reaching for the hem of Steve’s sweatshirt when there’s a startled, cut-off cough from the doorway and Clint’s voice says, “Shit, sorry, pretend I was never here.”

His voice fades as he retreats and Bucky sighs, quirking his eyebrow at Steve in a very familiar _go on, I know you want to_ look.

“Clint,” Steve says, dropping his hands from Bucky reluctantly. “Clint, come back.”

Clint sticks his head back around the doorway. He’s wearing a heavy black SHIELD sweatshirt and has a Santa hat pulled down over his ears. “It’s warm,” he mutters, reaching up a hand to pat the hat self-consciously. “Anyway, yeah, I was never here, so. Carry on.”

“Did you need Bucky?” Steve asks. Clint and Bucky bonded over long-range sniper scopes and teasing Natasha within twenty-four hours of Bucky first moving into the Tower. 

“Nah, no. Well, kind of.” Clint’s eyes flicker over them and he grins, eyes sliding sideways and away. “Just wanted to let you know that we’re all meeting up in the rec room to shiver together. But you guys clearly have better things to do, so.”

Steve hesitates. Yes, he wants to stay here, possibly forever, but he really should be with his team.

Bucky looks at him hard then groans. “Yep, looks like we’re coming to your party.” He narrows his eyes at Clint. “Cockblocker.”

Clint grins at him and salutes. He opens his mouth to say something else then hesitates, expression turning more serious. He looks at them both in turn and seems to make a decision to go on. “You’d better come,” he says slowly, “I had to kick Phil out of my bed for this.”

“Phil?” Bucky mouths to Steve.

Steve only knows one Phil. “Coulson?” he asks Clint.

Clint nods. He looks awkward but determined, standing in the doorway in his silly hat, but Steve is pretty sure that Clint just tried to let them know that it won’t be a big deal if the team finds out they’re together, and Steve loves him for that.

Bucky laughs softly, relaxing into Steve’s. “We will be right down, Barton,” he promises.

“Don’t forget,” Clint warns and disappears out the door.

“We really going downstairs?” Bucky asks, as soon as Clint’s gone. He shifts around and kneels up, adjusts himself in his pants, and doesn't seem to mind that Steve can’t help watching. “What am I saying, of course we are.”

Steve catches his hand before he moves too far, curling his fingers around Bucky’s palm and smiling when Bucky’s metal fingers curve gently around his. 

“Have breakfast with me, tomorrow?” Steve asks.

Bucky turns back, raising his eyebrows. “Like we do every morning?”

Steve tugs on Bucky’s hand once, twice, until Bucky stops smirking at him and makes his face turn serious. 

“Let me take you out to breakfast and pay and maybe try to hold your hand under the table at some point,” Steve says, so there’s no more confusion.

Bucky laughs, sitting back down on Steve’s knees and kissing Steve hard. “Yeah, I’ll date you,” he says, “I’ve only been waiting eighty years.”

Steve kisses him again, letting it linger. “It takes me a while to work up to things like that,” he says softly.

Bucky smiles at him, expression nothing but fond. “Steve, buddy, I never expected it to be any other way.”

/End

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Snow Is Falling (Like Forgiveness From The Sky)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416949) by [sisi_rambles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisi_rambles/pseuds/sisi_rambles), [torakowalski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torakowalski/pseuds/torakowalski)




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